The Time My Gf’s Tag-Along Girlfriend Got Tagged In
My girlfriend takes control of her bestie during in a dark room threesome
It’s no secret that teenage girls mature sooner than boys, and by the time a girl hits fifteen, she’s already well aware of the kinds of reactions her appearance and attitude will bring. However, boys of the same age are still playing with army men and are happiest hanging out together, hiding their insecurities behind the shield of a group.
To boys, girls are a mystery. Irresistible and tempting but without a plan of how to proceed, boys don’t know what to do when a girl they fancy returns their attention.
On the other hand, girls are curious, ready to experiment, and have the courage that seems to come from somewhere outside themselves. They often welcome this challenge to pursue the push from external influences and internal eagerness.
And when a girl sets her eyes on a boy and pulls him away from his pack, exciting things happen in their alone time.
So it was with Amy and me.
The Church girl with a sinful nature.
After the gospel, the kids would leave the pews and head downstairs. There, we would listen to lessons delivered in a tone and language geared towards our naïve ears. This is where I met Amy, and, entirely by her decision (as I recall), she chose me to be her once-a-week boyfriend.
Before you worry that you’re going to read about sex involving minors, I’ll spoil it for you. Sure we kissed a lot, and our hands wandered over the top of our clothes in places with bumps and lumps, with the occasional unbuttoning and skin-on-skin grope, but nothing else happened. The pastor would be pleased to know our virginities remained intact.
After a few months of Sunday secret make-out sessions, Amy dumped me just as suddenly as she pulled me from the pack. I was mildly devastated and disappointed in being unable to continue the Sunday school lessons to which I had become accustomed.
Time heals all wounds.
Fast forward a few years. High school is over; I’ve moved into my own place, have a job, and am a thousand times more confident with females. My bravado pushes me through discomfort, and courage arrives in the moments needing action. I’ve had a few girlfriends, gathered more experience, and shed my virginity.
This was when Amy and I had a second go. Both of us were anxious to pick up where we had left off, and the words spoken between the lines had the same message.
“Would you like to go down to the river with me one night?” I asked her nicely while my eyes jogged across hers and said, “I know stuff now. I really want to do stuff with you.”
“I would love to. Can you come pick me up? You’ll have to meet my parents, though,” Amy replied. Her fingertip stroking her clavicle and dipping down toward her perky cleavage sent another message. “I know stuff too. I want to show you what I know.”
I drove out to their ranch, met Amy’s parents, and our hot, young love affair began anew. We did everything anywhere we could do it. Amy wasn’t lying when she said she knew stuff, she was a sex queen, and I was her willing knight.
Amy’s best friend, Mandy, was the only hitch in our hookups. She was rather plain, shy, and practically attached to Amy everywhere she went. However, Mandy seemed happy to go where we went and do whatever Amy said.
While I didn’t mind her tagging along, there were times when the mousy girl was a kink in the chain though it never seemed to bother Amy or interrupt our heated make-out sessions.
Then one summer afternoon, Amy, confident and in control, took matters into her own hands.
The Dark Room
I lived in a basement suite at the time, and while my rent was cheap, my accommodations were fairly basic. My place consisted of a basement bedroom with a tiny window. With the window blacked out and the door closed, it turned into a dark, cool cave.
The day began with a trip down to the river. The sun, water, and forest aromas sparked a wildness in Amy and me. All we wanted to do was fuck. In her little tube top, sans bra, Amy was teasing me with down blouse peeks and ample flashes of side boob. Even the cold Rocky Mountain River couldn’t chill the heat in my cock or Amy’s hunger — by the time we got back to my place, we were practically vibrating.
Once settled inside the room, the lights go out. It’s completely black, the kind of black that takes ten minutes for your eyes to find your fingers held in front of your face. I’m on the bed, Amy is on me, and Mandy is lying on the giant bean bag chair in the corner.
A brush of fingertips on my hips curl into my waistband, pulling my shorts off, and I feel Amy’s lips and tongue circling and kissing the head of my cock — I still can’t see a thing. The room is void of sound, and Amy’s sucking, kissing, and gulping sounds ricochet off the cement walls with studio-quality acoustics. I swallowed my moans and held back my words as Amy kept working her wet mouth magic over my surging shaft.
Then I heard a rustle from the corner. The sound of a million little styrofoam beads moving like a tidal flow gave away Mandy’s shifting body.
Was she awake? Could she hear us? Did she know what was going on? All I could be sure of was that it was too dark for her to see anything.
The suppression of my vocal affirmations of joy broke when Amy slathered my cock with her spit, then cocooned my cock between her soft, lovely, warm C-cup breasts. Then, with her fingertips combing up and down my shaft and her tits giving my cock a loving hug, I sat up, reached down, and grabbed her.
Amy loved being manhandled. She would squeal with delight when I threw her onto the bed, watching her tight body bounce once before I pounced, flung her onto her belly, and dove onto her, my mouth placing hungry kisses and soft bites into her perky ass.
With my hands slipped under her armpits, I pulled Amy up, kissed her like a starved animal, sucked in her breasts, making sure to give them equal attention, then spun her around and pulled her hips back onto my head. I know magic is real because everything disappears when your mouth closes over a hot, wet pussy at the exact moment a hot, damp mouth closes over your cock. From there on out, it’s all sinful, selfish, generous pleasure.
In our lustful hunger for one another, Amy and I had forgotten entirely about Mandy, sitting in the corner not ten feet away, listening to her best friend and boyfriend having a hot 69.
Then, cutting through the quiet room in the middle of Amy and I taking a breath, we heard a soft, little moan coming from the darkness.
I froze, locked motionless beneath Amy’s round ass and soft pussy while Amy clenched her hand in a death grip around my stiff cock. Then, communicating telepathically, Amy and I waited for another giveaway of our active audience.
More rustling of beads and a whimper followed.
Amy sat up and planted her pussy on my face. Then, slow and hard, she ground her mound up and down my face performing her favorite maneuver, pushing down and rocking her hips until she felt my nose bump across her gaping pussy and soft, puckered asshole.
“You’re going to make me cum on your face, sweetie,” Amy spoke into the black. Then for good measure, she added, “I want your thumb in my ass.” I liked that about Amy; her enthusiasm was fantastic, and she was a natural at taking charge.
As Amy’s impending release approached, her vocalizations ramped up, and so did the appreciation from our audience. The unique sound of skin-on-skin penetration followed the sounds of pants being pulled off and tossed to the floor. Our invisible playmate was having a good time herself.
When Amy’s orgasm hit, and she nearly suffocated me, her brain shifted. Gone was the demure and flirtatious young woman. Instead, her inner alpha wolf was about to howl, and her little beta bitch was waiting in the corner.
“We can hear you, you know,” Amy said into the darkness as she continued stroking my cock and waggling her hips over my face.
No answer.
“I bet if I turned the light on right now, I’d see your fingers in your pussy and those big tits out.” Amy went on. “I bet you were pinching those nipples and fucking yourself while you listened to me cum.”
A soft whimper and more sounds of the rustling bean bag chair.
“You can listen to me suck his nice, big cock if you want. It doesn’t bother me.” Amy said. And good to her word, Amy busied herself working my cock over by hand and mouth.
“The only thing I’m not sure is what turns you on more — his cock, or my pussy. I know you’re in love with me, Mandy. I see the way you look at me. I know you want me.” Amy said.
My eyes could have been flashlights they shot so wide open. This revelation was all news to me. I was oblivious of Mandy being anything more than a best friend with nothing better to do than tag along with us.
“I bet you’d just about cum if I told you to cum suck my tits while he fucks me. Or maybe you want his cock. Maybe you want to taste him too?” As Amy was talking, she’d moved down, turned around, and climbed on top of me, her soft hand guiding my cock inside her pussy, and from how wet she was, I knew Amy was extra turned on.
“Do you want to come kiss me while I get fucked?” Amy asked. “Don’t be a shy little slut now; we know you’re getting listening to us. Answer me, Mandy.”
“If that’s what you want — okay,” Mandy answered.
“Come here, you dirty little slut.” Amy commanded.
Looking back, while the darkness offered the perfect camouflage for Mandy, it was also one of my regrets. I could only make out shapes for the better part of what I guessed was a half-hour of naughty sex. The girls played with each other and with me.
Amy was good enough to let Mandy suck my cock, pulling herself off so Mandy could suck it and taste both Amy and me before Amy took it back, inserting it once again. We changed positions a few times, and my favorite had Amy beneath me in missionary with Mandy over top in a 69 of their own.
Girl-on-girl, while beautiful, has never been high on my sexual bucket list, and to be honest, I was pretty nervous about fucking another girl, whether or not my girlfriend said it was okay. My mind was already thinking of the repercussions in the aftermath and how we’d interact afterward. So on top of using what was left of my ability to focus from straining to see in the pitch black and take everything in, I had my mental capacity maxed out.
But I have to say, if you have the chance to have two girls kissing and caressing each other while taking turns sucking your cock to orgasm, I highly recommend it.
After Amy and Mandy had me blow my load between them, they giggled, gushed, and swore that no mention of what we did would ever leave the room.
Though we never repeated the event, there were plenty of occasions where we could have. Afterward, there was no rift in our threesome, the girls remained good friends, and for the remainder of our going out, Amy, Mandy, and I spent as much time together as before this side step into sexual play.
On one visit back to town a few decades later, I ran into both of them. Amy was married with a small horde of children and a seemingly good husband, while Mandy was married and divorced but looking not too bad for it. In the few minutes we chatted, catching up and laughing about the old days, Amy opened the door to the memory of that lurid afternoon. There were a few rosy cheeks and sheepish darting eyes, but we said nothing more.
After saying our goodbyes, I remember walking across the street and thinking of the uncanny accuracy of the lyrics to that Toby Keith song.
“I ain’t as good as I once was, but I’m as good once as I ever was,” I promised myself that if by some miracle those two conspired for a rematch, I would have the lights on.
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